


If Only to Save Your Soul

by hjbaltimore



Series: You Don't Have the Guts [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Arguing, Demon Dean Winchester, Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Violence, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 04:04:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2493728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hjbaltimore/pseuds/hjbaltimore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>“I want </em>him<em>. I don’t want anyone or anything else. That is the price of my continued loyalty.”</em></p><p>Not long after he confesses to Castiel, Dean breaks out of the dungeon before Sam can begin the cure. With everyone after him and time running out, Dean struggles to make a decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Small warning: There is one scene with a minor depiction of sexually charged violence. Like, Dean corners Cas, they fight, and then Dean tries to ask for sex while Castiel rolls his eyes. If that makes you uncomfortable, here is your warning.

Sam was an idiot. For good reasons, but still.

He’d apparently gone around erasing every spell and warding in the bunker he could feasibly remove without damaging the very infrastructure. Maybe to hope Dean would come back on his own, or in anticipation or having to drag him back in. But only a handful of hours after Cas left him, Crowley casually strolled in.

“Dean Dean Dean. What am I going to do with you. I thought we agreed to work together. Next thing I know you’re halfway across the country settling petty vendettas.”

“I didn’t get captured on purpose.”

“Oh no? Tell that to the painfully obvious trail you left for Sasquatch and Constantine. What do you want Dean? Just tell me. I can get you anything.”

“Getting me out of here would be a nice start.”

He pulled a bottle of paint stripper from his pocket and dumped the contents on the floor, erasing just enough of the trap. He then snapped his fingers, and the chains came off. He massaged his wrists and swaggered over to Crowley, lazily holding the First Blade out for Dean to grab. His grin when Dean felt the weight of it in his hands once again oozed a perverted sense of pride.

“Anything else, best pally?”

“I want Cas.”

“I was thinking more like some lovely ladies of the evening and few $20k bottles of wine.” He pulled one such bottle from his coat, and Dean had to wonder if bottomless pockets were a demonic power he could someday possess as well.

“I want Cas, and I want him alive. Angel, human… wants me or not, it doesn't matter.”

Crowley scoffed and all but rolled his eyes. “Yeah sure, I’ll just go off and find an angel leash for you to keep him on. He’ll be dead within the month, Dean. Pick something else.”

After becoming a demon, there had only been two times he’d ever been “scared”, at least in anyway humans would classify the emotion. The first was when he genuinely thought Lucifer and Michael were going to have their brawl. No matter what side won that, his outcome would be worse than death.

The second time was _right fucking now_ , trapped in his vessel and pinned to the wall by a very powerful, and even angrier, Dean Winchester with the first blade to this throat. Admittedly, he was less scared now than the last time. Only because for all his experience, Dean’s torture skills were nothing compared to the creativity of the archangels.

“Make a deal with me, then. My allegiance for the angel. Quick and simple.”

“It doesn’t work like that, Dean,” he pleaded, though still trying to keep an edge of humor to calm Dean down. “If demons could makes deals with each other, we’d all have been trading handjobs already.”

“I want _him_. I don’t want anyone or anything else. That is the price of my continued loyalty.”

“Fine! You want Feathers? I’ll get you Feathers. Love him, eat him, play dress-up... I don’t really care. Just put me down. ‘Course he’s bound to go nuclear any day now. Like adopting a dying pet.”

Dean threw him to the ground, leaving a dent roughly the size of his vessel smashed into the tile. Though he was calmer now, quiet.

“There’s no way to save him?”

“Well, I suppose you could shove another angel’s grace down his throat. Worked last time. Eventually you’re going to run out of disposable angels, though. They’re somewhat in limited supply these da-”

He was gone. Crowley picked himself of and readjusted his suit, scowling at where the other man had just been standing.

“You’d better show more gratitude to your king when you get back!”

* * *

Cas has to sleep now. Talk about deja vu.

Dean sat next to shabby green couch and watched. Castiel’s body contorted in a way that could only comfortable to the sleeping. Chest rising and falling every few seconds. He could feel heart beats, souls, emotions. Castiel’s true form cramped inside the human body, like it was going to burst through the skin at any moment. The grace was a different color, though not any color he’d ever seen before, or could even begin to describe.

He remembers watching Lisa like this once, when he was oh so briefly a vampire (another repeat of the past; what kind of shitty life was this anyway?), only the feeling was stronger. He loved Lisa, cared for her, could have spent the rest of his life with her. Though at this point he didn’t know why he ever cared, and honestly, would sell her and Ben for a bag of chips.

But here was Castiel, pretty much the only thing in the whole world that had the tiniest sliver of a chance to convince him the cure was worth having. But only because he wanted it and not for any actual practical reason. Dean was basically a god now. He knew Sam had felt the same thing in the past. How - why would he ever give this up? Because Dean _asked him to?_ What a bunch of bullshit.

“Hey Cas?”

Dean could hear his brother’s irritatingly large feet slapping down the hall. Leave it to Sam to ruin a perfect moment.

He flitted away before Sam, or Crowley, could catch up.

“Sam.”

“Hey man, sorry to wake you. How’re you feeling?”

“I’ve never been sick with a ‘flu’, but I imagine this is what it must feel like to humans.”

“Ouch.”

“It is alright. Are you ready?”

Sam patted the cooler with a hospital logo on it. “Go it all right here, blessed by a priest. Hopefully the cure doesn’t call for any fresh human.”

“It should be fine.”

He sighed. “Lets hope so.”

* * *

He stuck around just long enough to see the reactions when they saw he was gone, and then followed Castiel as he furiously stormed out of the bunker. He followed him as he met up with another angel wearing a very unhappy and frazzled woman as a meat suit. After several minutes of gentle touches and heated words, she left, leaving Castiel to leaning heavily against his dirt caked vehicle. Cars were just cars, but even the most callous person needed to wipe mud off the hood every now and then. Dean grunted in frustration.

He slid back into the car and sat behind the wheel staring into space for at least ten minutes without doing anything at all. Suddenly, he bowed his head and started talking to himself.

“What the fuck is he-”

Dean seethed. The little fucker was praying. Of all the annoying, irritating little habits. He threw his fists into his pockets and gritted his teeth. He was half willing to risk being caught in the devil’s trap etched into the ceiling just to tell him to knock it off. After _everything they'd been through..._

He drove to a nearby town. He stood outside a bar, drawing curious looks from passersby as he made no move to go in nor into any other building. Eventually, he turned sharp on his heels and slipped into a side alley. He threw his head back, resting against the wall like the weight of his vessel was too much to carry. Dean made his move.

“Hey doll. You miss me?”

He slammed Castiel against the brick wall, grabbing his wrists when he made a move to push Dean away.

He glared. “I wouldn’t have to if you would simply stay put.”

Dean’s teeth glint even in the dull light of the street lamps. “What was it, four? Five years ago? I remember a similar situation, except our roles were reversed.”

He grimaced. “Nothing has changed between now and then, Dean. My grace is once again fading. Your brother has had to lock you up... Crowley is around. And I’m still trying to save you from making stupid decisions.”

He smashed Castiel against the wall again, harder. He could feel his bones rattle and blood leak from where the skin had torn on the back of his head. It burned, but the thought of giving Dean even an inch of satisfaction over his dominance display overrode even the smallest hiss of pain. He spat in the demon’s face.

Dean kneed him in the gut. It was something he hadn’t felt since his first brush with human mortality, the impending dread of a huge bruise creeping over his stomach.

His held his jaw in place, kissing rough, hungerly, like it took all his self restraint to refrain from tearing Castiel’s skin off as he nipped his way up the side of his neck.

“You know what I’m going to do, first thing after I take care of you and Sam? Kill every member of that goddamn group of angels from your stupid headquarters. The ones who made you choose between them and me?

“God,” he continued, a tinge of hysteria on the edge of his voice, “for siblings that have known you for millennia, they don’t know you at all. They’re all so _stupid_.”

“Dean, no-” he grunted.

He hissed. “Shut up. You and Sam? You can’t take care of yourselves. But I’m more fucking powerful than you right now, and I’m going to fix everything. Me and Sammy will take over Hell, you’ll have Heaven, and we’ll never have to worry about another goddamn thing. I'm gonna feed him my blood, Hulk him out. If he resists, I'll kill the little shit and drag him down anyway.”

“What happened to free will Dean? It’s the entire reason we defied heaven and hell in the first place.”

“You can have as much free will as you want once you start listening to me.”

“Do you even hear yourself?”

He didn’t answer, and instead slid his knee between Castiel’s legs and ground it into his groin. Dean held Cas’ hair and exposed his neck, to which he continued sucking and nuzzling in fervor.

“I love you so goddamn much Cas.” Dean loosened his grip slightly, but not enough for Castiel to get any leverage or slip away. “It hurts. It always has. I don’t care who or how many people I gotta kill, but you are not dying on me. I don’t even care if you hate me for it.”

Despite his own pain, he wrestled his arms free and rubbed Dean’s back gently, as though consoling him for a loss. “Dean, Sam and I are just trying to help you. You’re not well. You're not yourself. I can’t return any of your feelings until we cure you. I need to to understand that.”

“How about just sex for now? We can do it right here,” he grinned, finally meeting his eyes again.

“What if I said no?”

“Ain’t gonna force you. I‘m classy like that.”

Castiel sighed and rolled his eyes. He wondered just how much this desire for sexual conquest had muddled his critical thinking. He slid his eyes back to Dean and was barely able to contain the sarcasm in his voice. “Of course Dean. Why don’t we at least move behind the building? For privacy.”

“If someone walks by I’ll just kill ‘em.”

“Dean.”

“GOD. Fine.” Not letting go, he maneuvered himself and Castiel out of view of the sidewalk, lip locked and waddling awkwardly around the corner, where Dean wasted no time in shucking off both their clothes as quickly as his hands could move. Dean rubbed up against him, feeling Cas’ hardness against his leg.

“Oh baby,” he laughed. “S’ that an angel blade or are you happy to see me.”

In less than the time it took him to blink, a blur of silver-ish light punctured straight through his thigh and out the otherside. Rather than scream, Dean froze with only a slight shudder racking his body, and felt very strongly as though he wanted to heave up anything he’d eaten in the past week. Cas pulled the blade out, and jammed in a round piece of metal, on which a devil’s trap was carved, deep into the wound.

“I’m so sorry, Dean. I wish it hadn’t come to this.” He stepped back, and let Dean, who seemed more surprised than anything, slide to the ground against the wall.

Castiel pulled out his phone with a sullen look. “I have him, Sam.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds himself being cured for real this time, and all the human emotions that come with it.

He roared, pounded at the floor. Evidently, demon’s throats never got sore, because he had been at it for _hours._

Castiel may have been nearly human, but the ability to hear the inhuman screech of hell spawn was not yet lost. Around the fourth hour, he’d driven to the next town over, but could still hear it just as clearly. He considered he might literally have to leave the planet to escape it, and would have been tempted to do so if he still had his grace.

“It’s still there, Cas. It’s just a never ending feeling, like I can’t quite hear it but it’s still buzzing in my head.”

He rubbed his temples. He’d almost forgotten what headaches felt like. “A side effect of your own latent abilities would be my guess.”

Sam groaned and held his head. A small trickle of red dripped from his left nostril, and caught his breath at the sight of it.

Cas heaved himself up from the sticky leather armchair and sighed, shuffling tenaciously towards the dungeon. “Try to rest until the next dose. I’ll watch Dean.”

* * *

_Wonder of wonders, one of them finally gave in_ , he thought to himself. He half wished it was Crowley, come to bust him out again (yeah right, Crowley’s strong, but Sam learns from his mistakes; no getting past the new warding anytime soon), but would settle for either Cas or his brother. Preferably Castiel. He’d been berating Sam everytime he came in for another injection with no response beyond a bitch face that was apparently tattooed to his skull, judging by the way it never changed. Where was the fun in that.

No, it needed to be Cas. The one he’d just confessed his love to which had eating away at the guy. What could be more fun than tugging on that string?

“Hello Dean.”

_Bingo._

“Hey Cas. Ready to continue what we talked about last time you trussed me up in here?”

“I’ve come to ask what it will take to quell your most recent temper tantrum.”

“A beer, two slices of apple pie, and a lap dance from my favorite angel.”

“Is that what this is about?” he asked, stone faced and simmering. “Taking advantage of my feelings?”

“Do you know what it’s like, Cas? There’s this intoxicating sense of power, like I could do anything. But at the same time, I am hungry all the time. Thirsty. Aching for sex. Lonely, but smothered whenever someone is closer than five feet from me. Not cripplingly so, but just enough that I can’t ignore it. I can’t satisfy it Cas. Then I look at you… I want to break you. Eat you. Hold you tenderly. Fuck you through the floor, or just melt into your skin. I can’t decide and it’s driving me crazy. Like a bug bite you can’t stop scratching even though it’ll just end up a big bloody mess.”

Castiel looked decidedly unimpressed. “I see your flair for the dramatic has not left you.”

Dean spit near Cas’ feet. “I don’t know why you still care anyway. You got your new girlfriend at beck and call. Where is she anyway?”

He smoothed back Dean’s hair before kneeling to look at the wound  in his thigh. “Does it hurt?”

“Had worse,” he said with a sniff.

“Excluding even the current situation, Hannah is not particularly fond of you, or Sam.” He stood back up, and pulled a chair over and sat parallel to Dean.

“Then why are you here?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Dean, but you have come first for as long as we’ve known each other.”

“I can think of plenty exceptions. Want me to list them for you?”

Castiel took of his coat, draping it neatly over the back of the chair while Dean watched hungerly. But he didn’t say anything. He sat down and watched Dean with slow and intermittent blinks. Neither one even noticed Sam come in until Dean shouted “ow!” at the jab of a needle.

He slackened in his bonds as sweat began to pinprick his skin and snarled. “I’m gonna fucking kill you. As soon as I get out of these, I swear.”

Sam’s shoulders dropped. He looked exhausted, or at least very nonplussed at the most recent of death threats from his brother.

“Why are you being so difficult, Dean? It’s over. We will cure you.”

He nearly laughed. “You don’t know that. Especially since I’m pretty sure it’s killing me right now.” He groaned and winced and began breathing heavily.

“Cas can I talk to you for a sec?” Sam tapped him on the shoulder. He got up and, with a single glance back, walked back out into the light of the main room.

“You know, at first I thought he was just saying that to mess with me, but I think he might actually like, dying in there, Cas.”

He shrugged. “What are we suppose to do Sam? Let him out?”

“No. No, it’s just… what if it doesn’t work? What if it is killing him?”

“Then he dies. For good. We don’t have much of a choice. The demon must be gotten rid of, or this whole ordeal will have been for nothing. We’d have been better off letting Abaddon roam the Earth.”

“How can you say that so callously?” Sam snapped. “That’s my fucking brother in there. Your  best friend. The same one for who you, only like, a month ago, nearly gave up on getting rid of Metatron for.”

Castiel set his jaw. “Okay, tell me then, just what is your contingency plan if this doesn’t work?”

“Keep him locked up. Find another solution.”

“And if there is none? Are you just going to keep him there forever?”

“For the rest of my life if I have to.”

_I don’t have anyone else._

Castiel let the anger roll off, and felt the sudden urge to embrace Sam. He thought the better of acting upon it.

“That’s hardly even Dean in there. He might as well just be any other demon. Whatever or whoever is in there right now Sam, they’re worth saving, just not worth keeping. Don’t confuse the two.”

* * *

He’d gone for another drive, making back a half an hour before the last dose. Silently, he slunk in past Sam without a word exchanged between the two. But there was also no screaming. No noise from Dean at all. He slipped back into the dungeon and resumed his seat across from Dean, who was very visably drained of all his earlier energy, but certainly didn't seem to be dying.

“I see you are feeling better.”

“No thanks to you or Sammy.” The hint of smugness that Cas assumed to be a new permanent feature of the demon was gone and replaced with an icy glare. "You didn’t believe me when I said I loved you, did you.”

He said it more as a statement than a question, and Castiel couldn’t help but agree solemnly. “I haven’t believed anything you’ve said to me since you were human. When you are back to normal, then I will listen again.”

Dean shook his head. “I can’t make head or tails of you bitches. First Anne Marie, now you. What the fuck would you know about love anyway, you stupid whore? You just keep bouncing around from one crazy chick to the next, and now you’ve finally hit an all time low with someone who’s practically your sister. I mean, it’s one thing for me to sleep around, but you’re an _angel_. Just how low have you sunk?”

Castiel took Dean’s hands and untied them from the armrests, though still shackled, and laced their fingers together. Dean immediately went silent, still visibly fuming.

“Dean, there is one one dose left, and more likely than not it will, if fact, cure you. Regardless of what happens though, I want to you to know I share your affections. I think I probably have for a while. And if you still feel that way when you are human again, I hope you will find the courage to let me know.”

* * *

_You look worried, fellas._

* * *

Dean didn’t leave his room for two days, except to piss and grab the hardest alcohol he could find. When he finally emerged, Castiel had left.

“He left with Hannah to do, I don’t know, angel stuff. Said you’d probably want some space anyway.”

“I gotta talk to him.”

“So call him.”

“Needs to be face to face.”

“Dean they left for Fort Riley twelve hours ago. I’m not even sure they’re still there.”

“Then I’ll call to make sure he’s _there._ ”

“Dean wait,” Sam grabbed his arm and spun him around so they faced each other. “I forgive you. For everything. I really do. But you said some pretty heavy stuff to Cas. I just don’t want you to be disappointed if he doesn’t do the same.”

Dean nodded, and snatched his keys from table.

* * *

It took two hours of driving non stop over the speed limit, six unanswered phone calls, and another hour of waiting at the first hotel he came across with vacancies, even though it was way out of his normal price range. 

Finally, Castiel showed up, looking suspiciously healthier and immaculately clean.

“We ran into some other angels… Crowley showed up and… well it’s a long story you didn’t drive down for. But my problems are solved, temporarily anyway.” He stepped in room, immediately perplexed by non-shady surroundings. “To what do I owe the occasion?”

“We can go somewhere else if you want,” Dean offered, nerves hitching themselves on every word.

“No this is… fine. What did you want to talk about.” He began shucking off his coat like he meant to stay for a while. Dean didn’t know if he did that to make him feel better or not, but it helped anyway.

“Well you know, I mean you told me to… when it was all done with… here I am.”

Castiel tilted his head slightly and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“Come on man. You know what I mean.”

“I hope so, but just to make sure you still... you know."

Dean looked away in shame.

Castiel sighed disappointment. Dean looked ready to bolt from the room at any moment. “It’s okay, Dean. You know I’ll always forgive you. I think I owe you and your brother at least that much.”

“Man, Sam had nothing to do with this. Should have nothing to do with this. I’m not looking for forgiveness. I mean, I guess I am, but that's not…”

Castiel stood still, eyes focused on Dean beneath his furrowed brow. “I still don’t-”

“I need you, Cas. More than anyone.” He reached over and held Cas’s face in his hands, only to try and yank his hands away as soon as he’d done so. Cas grabbed his hands and stared in amazement, his eyes unable to decide where to land on the other man's face.

“I love you too, Dean.”

He let out a heavy sigh of relief and let his head fall to Castiel’s shoulder. For severally blissfully long moments they didn’t move, save for Castiel pulled clasping almost desperately at the back of Dean’s shirt to hold their bodies tight together. They stood together that way, listening to the cars drive by outside and the voices of other people talking as they walked down the halls of the hotel.

“M’glad Sammy’s not here. He’d never let me hear the end of it,” he laughed pitifully.

“End of what?”

“Chick flick moments.”

 

They sat on the nearest of the twin beds, not facing each other but with their knees touching, and Dean tentatively,childishly nudging at Castiel to hold his hand, which he did a with a kind of firmness that grounded them both in the moment.

“I know you said before you left the bunker I should rest, that there wasn't much to worry about anymore but… I don’t want to live without ya, Cas. I’m not gonna be able to rest until you can too. Stay with us at the bunker all mojo’d up again.”

Cas smiled. “That would certainly be ideal, wouldn’t it?”

“But maybe for now-”

“-we could stay like this for a bit?”

“Tch. Stop reading my mind, asshole.”

 ****  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I had it end in a fancy hotel but I jut couldn't find a good spot to stick in the porn without it sounding awkward. Maybe next time. Or read my other [Destiel fic](http://archiveofourown.org/series/89455) (the one that _does_ end in sex)

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to split into two parts. 
> 
> Wanted to thank everyone for the encouragement to write a follow up to part one. Ask and ye shall receive, friends.


End file.
